


Six Minus Two

by Greensilver (Trelkez)



Category: Sports Night
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-19
Updated: 2007-04-19
Packaged: 2017-10-03 02:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trelkez/pseuds/Greensilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Dan didn't even know why he was pissed at Casey. Given how much time Dan had obviously spent around Dana and Natalie lately, that wouldn't be the least bit surprising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Minus Two

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Silent Night challenge at [sn_playbook](http://community.livejournal.com/sn_playbook/).

Dan was pissed at Casey about something. Casey had no idea what Dan could possibly be pissed _about_, but there was no missing that Dan was pissed about _something_; Dan wasn't letting him miss it. The loud silences, the thinned lips, the terse, passive-aggressive responses to innocent comments - yeah, Casey was starting to think that Dan had spent too much time around Dana and Natalie lately. That'd account for a lot. It might even account for Dan being pissed at Casey for no easily discernible reason; it'd be just like Dana and Natalie to whip a guy up into a furor for no reason at all. Maybe _Dan_ didn't even know why he was pissed at Casey. Given how much time Dan had obviously spent around Dana and Natalie lately, that wouldn't be the least bit surprising.

_In hockey news, there's a major storm front on the Red Wings' horizon, and it's called the Carolina Hurricanes._

He ctrl-backspaced the entirety of that sentence, and tried again.

_In hockey news, Dan has been pointedly ignoring me all day with the kind of finesse previously only displayed by my ex-wife, which may indicate that he's actually turning into a woman._

That was better. He hit save, grabbed his jacket, and went off in search of food, drink, and Dana.

-

Dana was pissed at him about something.

Much like her best buddy Dan, she wasn't actually in the mood to come out and _tell_ Casey what she was pissed about. He didn't even know if Dana and Dan were pissed about the same thing, or if they just happened to be pissed about different things that had manifested in the same womanish behavior patterns. All he knew for sure was that she was avoiding him, and giving him constant furtive glances that made alarm bells go off in his head.

Under normal circumstances, he was a big fan of furtive; furtive usually meant that she was thinking about flirting with him, or that she'd actually noticed he was flirting with her. This, however, _this_ was the dark side of furtive, the side where she was checking to see if he'd figured out yet why it was she was mad at him.

After five minutes of carrying on a casual, one-sided conversation with Kim while Dana pretended not to stare, Casey stuffed his hands into his pockets, rocked back onto his heels, and considered his options. Five minutes wasn't bad. Weaker men would've folded in, say, two. He was pretty sure that, as of the five-minute mark, he'd managed to hang on to some tiny shred of male pride, and could thus safely retreat with his dignity intact.

He didn't quite _flee_ back to the office, but it was a near thing.

-

_There are games afoot. Intel required._

He sent the email off, and lifted up a little in his chair to get a better view of Jeremy's desk. Jeremy was having some kind of argument with Elliot, and his back was to his computer. Fortunately for Casey, Natalie had changed Jeremy's email settings earlier in the week; now, every time Jeremy got an email in, his computer made shrill sounds that vaguely resembled "I'm a Little Teapot."

Casey was pretty damned sure Jeremy knew how to change his settings back, but three days in, Jeremy was still a little teapot.

He couldn't hear the music through the closed office door, but he knew when the email came in just the same; Jeremy jumped, stammered, and tried to cover for the irreversible loss of his spine by giving Elliot a manly eye-roll. By the time Jeremy was secure enough again to turn around and check his damned email, Casey had lined up his pens, finished off his coffee, and made three nothing-but-net baskets with balled-up Post-It notes.

_Sorry, Casey. I have to review some tapes._

Casey sat up a little, trying to pin Jeremy with his eyes. That always worked for Isaac; didn't matter if you were across the room, in another room, in another building - if Isaac gave you a look, you shut up and did what you were told, because that was just how things worked. Casey wanted to give Jeremy a look _just_ like that, a threatening Isaac Jaffe look.

Jeremy's chair was empty.

Oh, that was _it_.

-

Casey snuck down the hall, swift-footed and silent.

Or, at least, he tried to sneak. The actual results of his efforts were noisier than your average sneak, and involved more tripping and wall-grabbing, too; still, he got down the hall unnoticed. It wasn't a clean victory, but the hardest-fought ones never were.

He listened at Dana's door for a moment to make sure she wasn't actually in residence. There were no sounds at all coming from the office, and Dana didn't have it in her to be that quiet; the coast was clear. He slid inside, closed the door behind him, and surveyed his conquered territory.

There had to be _something_ here that would blow the doors off the poorly-concealed conspiracy they had going on.

He did as quick a search as was possible under the circumstances. Papers, files, conveniently forgotten notes-to-self - nothing; there was nothing incriminating in the office at all. He could try searching Dan's office, but that was also _his_ office, and he was pretty sure he knew what was in there. He could try searching Jeremy's office, but Jeremy's office didn't even have walls, and Casey's lack of stealth had already been well-established for the day.

He turned to go, and that was when he saw it; a small white bakery box, on the table next to the door.

The absurdly tiny cake inside said, _Happy 6th Dan and Casey_.

If there was one thing Casey was sure of, it was that this day, this _very_ day, had nothing of note involving himself, Dan, and the number six. Neither had yesterday, and neither did tomorrow; nothing to merit a cake, and a probable surprise party, and Dan getting pissy because Casey had forgotten. He knew Dan too well for that; after years of listening to Dan gripe, Casey paid more attention to their various and sundry anniversaries than he had with Lisa.

Six. Six, sixth, Danny, six - the only thing Casey could think of was their sixth anniversary at Sports Night, but that wasn't for another two months.

Two months to the day.

And if Dan had gotten the date wrong, and bitched about it to Dana, who'd panicked and tossed together some kind of shindig with Natalie, who'd naturally told Jeremy--

Oh, this was good. This was _real_ good.

Casey carefully closed the bakery box, poked his head out the door to make sure the coast was clear, and snuck out of Dana's office.

The only question remaining was whether he busted Dan now, or waited until July.

_In hockey news, this is _not_ the sixth anniversary of our first show as co-anchors of Sports Night. Also, there's a major storm front on the Red Wings' horizon, and its name is--_

Oh, yeah. No sense waiting until July; if he could get six seconds of free air during the hockey rundown, Dan was _definitely_ busted now.


End file.
